Gemini
by Angel-Lithium
Summary: The tale of two brothers.
1. I: Inflitration

The Dalmascan armour felt unnatural to Gabranth. Air brushed too freely over his face, the heavy fabrics too flexible for a swordsman used to full-plate. It offered little protection to the vitals and none at all to the head: little wonder that the Archadians' victory had been so absolute.

For years, Gabranth had wondered if he had chosen the right path, if his brother had not been right in his actions, in his choice to abandon his homeland. But proof of the Archadian Empire's superiority was in the fates of both Nabradia and Dalmasca. It lay also in the fate of Landis but he chose not to dwell on that. The past was unchanging and his own choice had been the better.

Nalbina Fortress was a wreck, the fighting between the remains of the Dalmascan Resistance and the might of the imperial forces laying waste to the place. His soldiers sloshed through walkways flooded when parts of the fortress's towers had fallen. Airship debris still fell on the broken flagstones, the paling not yet restored.

The interior of the fortress had fared little better. The stone work in the wall columns was chipped, the blue marble inlays laced with cracks like cobwebs. Checkerboard floor tiles had been pounded into dust by the marching of thousands of heavily armoured men. Torn banners hung from walls like ghosts of the Nabradian forces.

A single imperial soldier approached from the corridor behind them. "Their arrival is imminent. A small number have been separated. We move."

Gabranth nodded at the soldiers. They could not fail now; Dalmasca would surrender and he would be promoted. The Order of the Knights of Dalmasca was at their doorstep, among them, Captain Basch fon Ronsenburg, Gabranth's traitor brother and the player upon whom the game's outcome rested. Basch may have thought himself a skilled warrior but Gabranth's orders were clear; Basch must reach the treaty room alive.

King Raminas stood as Gabranth and his men moved into the treaty room, cutting down the unsuspecting guards. Confusion writ bold upon his face, Raminas moved to defend himself. But before he could take a single step, Gabranth was there with a knife to bury in his chest.

"Captain Basch…" the King wheezed.

Gabranth smiled. "My apologies, your Majesty." He pushed the old man back into his chair. "But we could not allow you to sign this treaty."

"The treaty is signed."

"With steel, your Majesty. Writ in royal blood."

"Captain…" The King's head rolled to the side, blood pooling in his lap. Again, the King's mistake made Gabranth smile. Being mistaken for his brother had seldom before worked in his favour.

"They approach," one of the soldiers hissed, stepping away from the door.

"Kill them all. Spare only the Captain. I would have him watch." Gabranth took out his sword, ready to strike down the resistance as the doors flew open.

Three men in Dalmascan armour rushed in, their advance halted by the swords of the imperials. The clash of steel on steel rang out as they tried to fight, outnumbered more than three to one. Their captain froze, eyes on Gabranth.

"Noah!"

"My name is Gabranth. Judge Gabranth." He smiled at the look of shock on the Captain's face, an imperfect reflection of his own.

"Brother, please—"

Gabranth's blade arced through the air, slicing across Basch's face. "You're no brother of mine."

Basch fell, the soldiers surrounding him. "Noah—"

"Silence him," Gabranth commanded. "We await our witness. See that the others do not make it this far. When the game is won, take him to the dungeons." He watched Basch struggle as the soldiers dragged him to a corner of the room, waiting in the shadows. The best view in the house.

It was not long before the last Dalmascan soldier crept into the room. He was young – probably an orphan, fighting to survive. Just a kid: not the witness they had been expecting. His eyes focussed only on the remnants of his fallen comrades and the body of the slain king.

"Your Majesty," the boy murmured as Gabranth drew up behind him. He span around, too late to defend himself. Once again, the Dalmascan armour was useless as Gabranth slid his blade between the boy's ribs. "Captain… Why?"

"His Majesty was a traitor," Gabranth begun, signalling to his allies to move in and 'arrest' him. The boy fell, weakened. Gabranth looked back as the men rushed him. The boy would live at least long enough to tell all that he had seen. Beyond that…

Gabranth continued shouting at the imperials as they manhandled him to the floor, his part as the traitor captain well-rehearsed. Even as Vayne Solidor, the Archadian Emperor's son stood before him, he continued, relishing the opportunity to spit venom at the man who would probably sooner kill him than look at him. Finally, they dragged him away, the boy left unconscious on the floor.


	2. II: Nalbina Fortress Underground Prison

Gabranth was relieved to be out of the poorly designed Dalmascan armour. It felt better to finally cut his hair and be able to look his reflection in the eye without wanting to punch the mirror. No more would it be Basch staring back at him. How could a man fight with so much hair forever in his face?

But more than that, it was the pride of wearing the judicer's plate, not just Judge Gabranth but Judge Magister. He had reached the top and was the youngest to do so in a long time. Perhaps he ought to pay Basch a visit. Did the traitor not deserve his thanks?

The repairs at Nalbina had begun at last, the paling active once more and the lower floors of the fortress sealed to create a prison. Basch was being held in the oubliette, caged like a dog. More than he deserved.

His cage had already been lowered by the time Gabranth arrived in the room, water poured down the prisoner's throat to facilitate speech. The air in the dungeon was hot and dry and reeked of stale sweat and bodies past expiry.

"Do you remember daylight, Basch?"

"Brother, please…"

"What right have you to call me 'brother'? You threw away your ties of blood when you threw away our homeland."

"And so you betray me?"

"It is my duty to my country. I must protect the interests of Archadia."

Basch's eyes softened. "It is a weight off my mind to know you are well."

Gabranth snarled. "What do you care for my health? We were supposed to be a team, Basch. It was you and me against the world. When I needed you most, you ran and you left us for dead." He turned away, cursing himself for letting his anger rise to the surface.

"I am sorry."

"You're sorry?" His lip curled. "Sorry for what?"

"How is mother?"

"Dead." Gabranth slammed his fist into the bars. The chain screeched as the rusted links ground together, the cage rocking back and forth. Basch's gaze travelled upwards, as if searching for the weakness that would send him plummeting to his death in the darkness of the Barheim Passage below.

Gabranth shook his head, replacing his helmet as he backed away. He needed to be more careful. House Solidor wanted the Captain alive; he would not fail them now. "Brother or not, I would not just leave you to die, Basch."

Together with his soldiers, Gabranth headed from the room, pausing only long enough to hear Basch shout, "It's been good to talk again, little brother."

He hissed as the door slammed behind him. Perhaps when Basch was no longer useful, the Emperor would allow him to be the executioner.


	3. III: Escaped

Two years had passed. Time had done little to aid Gabranth in his objective to cast off the ties he had to the traitor captain. He revelled too much in his brother's misery to pass up the opportunity to relate to him the stories of his fallen comrades, the Dalmascan insurgency's pitiful attempts at resistance.

They had attacked the Royal Palace of Rabanastre during the consul's visit. Gabranth had known about the attack, as had most of the Archadian forces stationed in the city. Their rebellion had been crushed in a style that only Vayne Solidor could have brought: merciless.

It had been a while since he had visited the prison and the sight of his brother so weak came as a shock, but not an unwelcome one. The weaker he became, the less he fought.

"You have grown very thin Basch. Less than a shadow. Less than a man. Sentenced to death and yet you live."

"Why not ask Vayne himself? Is he not one of your masters?" Basch still had fight left in him, still had the energy to taunt him.

"We've caught a leader of the insurgence," Gabranth replied. "She's being brought from Rabanastre. The woman Amalia. Who could that be?"

Basch looked up. Finally, a response Gabranth could measure. They both knew Amalia's identity. At last, Basch would feel something besides shame: failure. And yet, he would not speak. "Such a faithful hound to cling so to a fallen kingdom."

"Better than throwing it away."

Gabranth replaced his helmet and walked away. "Throwing it away? As you threw away our homeland?" The soldiers followed him from the room. "He knows it's her. Princess Ashelia Dalmasca. Make him speak. Do whatever you must, just keep him alive."

"Yes, sir…" The soldier paused, distracted by a noise from the oubliette. The others had heard it too. "What was that?"

"Voices?"

Gabranth turned, marching back into the dungeon in time to see the cage drop.

"Pirates without a sky." A man dashed past, leaping towards the falling chain.

Gabranth and the imperials ran to the edge of the drop, watching the cage disappearing into the darkness. "Sky pirates?"

"The power to the Barheim passage has been cut," one of the soldiers said. "They'll have no escape."

"No matter. I'll find him." Gabranth snarled. "I know someone who wants that sky pirate alive."


	4. IV: Clash of Swords

Basch was aboard the Sky Fortress Bahamut. Gabranth had seen him enter with the sky pirate and the viera. At last, he had them cornered. Three of them against him, Judge Magister. He didn't bother to calculate the odds. He was too angry, too full of hate. His ears rang with the blood surging in his veins and the rumbling of Bahamut's engines.

The Fortress shook, causing him to stagger in his advance and yet Basch made no move to attack. Still, the traitor held on to his honour. It only served to anger Gabranth further. He raised his swords. "Tell me: why do you forsake that which you must hold most precious?"

"I do as I must, brother. Or is that not answer enough?"

Rage drove him as he lashed out at his brother. Every blow he made, Basch parried. Every step, mirrored by his twin's feet. They were evenly matched but for one thing; Gabranth was injured. His knee gave, not enough to send him to the floor but unbalancing him. His breastplate struck Basch's blade, the impact reverberating in his lungs.

"As long as I can curse your name, I shall not be defeated!"

"Then come! Wield your hatred and crush me. I welcome it."

Basch never let down his defence, strike after strike after strike. The air in Gabranth's helm heated, burning in his lungs. Everything he tried, deflected. Every attack pointless.

"Look, Basch. Your friends die! As they must, for surely, you cannot protect them. Know now the despair that you have taught me." He was flagging, the armour heavier now than it had ever been. The shorter sword fell from his hand, clanging to the metallic floor of the platform, the sound as painful as the blade itself.

"Have you your fill of this?" He made no move, only kept his remaining sword levelled at Basch.

"I would ask you the same." Basch paused. "Let this end, Noah."

Too much. That name, the identity he had tried so hard to leave behind. He fell to his knees, waiting for Basch to take his life. He never would; there was no hatred in him. "I've no right to be called by that name."

"Then live. And reclaim it."


	5. V: And Yet You Live

The darkness of death consumed him. And there was the white light. Heaven? What had he done to deserve paradise? Had his last act to protect Lord Larsa granted him redemption? It had been a fool thing to do, rushing in to fight against Vayne in such a state. But if certain death was not enough to deter Basch from fighting to defend his queen, it wouldn't stop him fulfilling his duty to Larsa either.

The light was too bright now. It was too painful to be Heaven. Perhaps this was not redemption but retribution. The silence was being torn by the chiming of glass bottles half full and magick incantations chanted as if by snakes. It was all he deserved for a life wasted. Basch, Drace, Gramis… countless lives destroyed by his ineptitude. His only solace was the knowledge that Larsa would not be left unguarded. Basch had promised as much.

"I suppose a refusal to die is something we have in common." A voice, familiar, gruff.

"Basch?" Gabranth opened his eyes, staring up at a tiled ceiling that certainly belonged to no afterlife he had imagined. Had he lived?

Basch's face appeared above him. "Damned to hell and yet you live."

Gabranth tried to reach out for him, the agony of his last hours returning with the movement, ripping growls of pain from his throat.

"Do not move. You're hurt."

"I do not need you to tell me." He coughed, pain surging through him like floodwater, filling his mouth with the taste of iron. "Larsa?"

"I am here, Gabranth." The twelve-year-old's hand wrapped around his.

"Not Gabranth." His time as Judge Magister Gabranth was over. "Basch will protect you now."

"It was not Basch who reassured me when we were caught in that storm aboard the Alexander."

Gabranth—Noah smiled. "No. But when we were your age, it was Basch who comforted me. He will serve you better." He coughed again. "What became of the Bahamut?"

"Crashed beyond the city," Basch replied. "The sky pirate and his partner sacrificed themselves to move it."

"A selfless sky pirate. Who would have believed such a thing?"

"No more surprising than a selfless judge."

"And yet you will take up my sword. A selfless judge if ever one existed." He sighed. "Why, Basch?"

"Because you are my brother. I failed you at Landis. I will not fail you now."[1]

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[1]Word Count: 2,467 excluding prefaces.


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